Mending the Broken
by Ziggygebs777
Summary: Sui-Feng is a hard-bitten Captain of the Gotei Thirteen. What will happen when she meets someone who makes her look tame? M for Violence, Language, and possible Lemon Zest. SuiXOC. Set in Pago's Universe
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N:**_** Well, ya'll, here's something niggling at the back of my mind. This will be the first chapter of my new fic, obviously entitled "Mending Broken Hearts". I haven't abandoned "Taming Destruction", I just have to get this out of my head. Enjoy.**

**I don't own Bleach, so don't be retarded.**

**Chapter One**

**Death Stalks the Forest**

_**300 years ago**_

"_Run, girl. Run for your lives."_

The whispered words hissed in the young woman's ears as she and her burden sped through the woods in the heart of Germany's Black Forest. The branches and other forest detritus upon the ground tore into the soft soles of her bare feet. The cold wind stung her lungs as they desperately expanded, fighting for precious air.

He had appeared out of nowhere, slaughtering them all. Her friends, her neighbors, her father, her mother…

Her husband…

All gone.

She looked down at the small child in her arms.

No. Not all gone.

She kept running, her spiritual pressure still tingling, telling her that _he_ was still following them.

"Mama…"

She looked down to her son, her brown hair getting in her eyes for a moment. The child seemed unhurt, his terror at what he had witnessed but a few minutes ago still shining in his tears.

"Shh... Heinrich sein ... ... ruhig ... für Mama ... " she gasped. He nodded, and buried his little black-haired head back into her bosom.

And so she ran. She ran for their lives.

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The man waited for a few moments after he had sent the girl and her spawn running in terror. It only made sense. He saw no use in making the thrill of the kill too short.

The sweetest things were best savored _slowly_, after all.

He shouldered his long sword, and took a moment to breathe deep, sampling the coppery tang of blood on the misty morning air, and appreciating the fire-flies flitting here and there. The bodies of these scum had made _such_ a nice spray when cut and stabbed, and the blood glowed _so_ nicely under the small creature's light.

He had enjoyed destroying them.

All of them.

Fun, fun, fun.

There had been about seventy-five in this little hideaway, deep in Germany. Men, women, and children, all getting along _so _well, all living in peace and harmony, and love…

…until a mere thirty minutes ago.

When he had shattered it, like _they _had shattered _his_ idyllic life all those decades past.

He sighed and shrugged, lifting his long blade from his shoulder and replacing it in its sheath. Looking at the swarm of fire-flies, he held another sheath in front of him, this one made for a much smaller blade.

"Return to me," he murmured.

The small insects swirled and coalesced into a large, glittering mass, which then inserted itself into the small sheath. "Thank you," he whispered.

He then gave the path into the woods a long, hard look with hooded eyes.

The girl had taken this path, along with the child.

He grunted, and adjusted his ragged cloak to allow for fast movement.

No use in letting a bad seed grow.

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Leftrightleftrightleftright—

The young woman ran even harder, her skin slick with sweat, her hair sticking to her forehead. If it had been any other time, any other situation, she might have stopped for a moment to breathe, to _rest_, but she couldn't. The Butcher, a legend amongst her kind, was behind her, and he never let a victim go.

He also never left any witnesses, unless he wished them to carry a warning of death to another group, but—

Her spiritual powers went haywire, and she realized that her pursuer had taken up the chase again, and he was _gaining_.

_"Nein, nein, nein, nein, nein, nicht mein Kind, bitte, lieber Gott, nicht mein Baby ..."_

Her silent pleading went unanswered. If Christ and his angels were listening, they gave no indication of it.

She shifted her burden from one shoulder to another, wheezing pitiably. The young woman honestly didn't know how much longer she could keep this up; her feet were little more than shredded meat and she honestly had no idea where she was in the Forest.

Her eyes went to the little bangle around her wrist. A small cross, the silver of it winking in the early morning glow, sent another mental babble of prayer through her.

Leftrightleftrightleftright—

"Hado 31: Shakkaho."

Sudden, agonizing pain ripped through her, and she fell to the ground, her lips parted in a shriek of agony. Fighting through the burning on her back, she turned to her child, who had landed safely on the soft loam at the base of a tree.

"Heinrich, lauf! Laufen Mama, so schnell wie du kannst!

The boy clambered to his feet, a mixture of tears and mucus smearing his face. He made to do as his mother ordered, somehow knowing that it would be the last time he saw her in this world, when he stopped dead in his tracks, an expression of terror that only a child can make on his face.

The young woman froze. Her extranormal senses had gone deathly quiet, as had the rest of the forest.

No chirping of insects.

No rustlings of animals in their dens.

She turned her head, so very slowly, and her wide brown eyes filled with tears of horror, anger, and frustration.

The Butcher stood there calmly, quietly, an expression of serenity on his scarred face. His shoulder-length dark-indigo hair, a white streak over his left eye, hid his gaze from easy view, and his cloak swayed gently in the breeze.

Man, woman, and child shared a silence.

"Draw it."

She shook her head, hoping to buy her son some time by feigning ignorance of his tongue.

He wasn't buying it. He pointed to her bracelet, at the cross dangling from the chain.

"Draw. It."

She froze, considering her situation. If she drew it, he would kill her, and then her son. If she didn't, he would still murder them.

She couldn't win.

The young woman stood up, slowly. Her back was terribly burned by his attack, and every move was torture, but she final stood, straight and tall.

"If…I-I do…" she said haltingly, struggling with the tongue, "You n-n-not hurt mein sohn?"

The Butcher looked at her long and hard, and finally nodded.

In a rapid movement, she had slid her foot back, bracing herself as she lifted her right arm, the cross glowing brightly, and she drew her left hand past it, a blue aura surrounding it. A feeling of invincible triumph filled her as she found her mark at his chest and—

A bright red spray filled her vision, replacing the glow as her arms sprang from her body. She stared in a semi-haze as she watched their progress to the earth of the forest floor, and then a sharp, pinching, tugging sensation at her middle and she was _with _her arms on the ground and she couldn't feel her legs…

She turned her head, not really sensing herself do so, and looked at him in shock. "_W…was_…?"

He ignored her, instead bending over to retrieve something from what had been her right wrist.

Her cross. Her Quincy Cross.

Seeing him take it, she knew for sure who he was.

"Du...du bist...ihn...du nicht...?"

He looked at her, his eyes betraying nothing. He nodded once. She noticed that his sword, the longer one, had somehow made it to his hand, and it was dripping blood.

Her blood.

She looked down to her middle, and saw nothing below her belly.

How strange; there should have been legs somewhere down there.

He got up, and her dying eyes watched him as he walked over to her son, who was staring at her in a sort of daze.

He lifted his sword over the boy.

And swung down, cleaving the lad's head from his shoulders.

She knew that was wrong, somehow, but exactly _how_ escaped her.

"You…you _promised…_"

The words were her own, but she couldn't remember thinking them, let alone having whispered them.

He looked back at her, his sword…what did they call those things…Zanpaktuto, that was it…dripping blood again.

"I don't keep deals with Quincies."

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He walked over to her, sheathing his sword as he did, and bent over her, watching as the last light died out of her eyes, and the last breath hissed out of her body.

All in a good day's work.

The Soul Reaper known to the Quincies as the Butcher gathered his ragged cloak about him once again. The rising sun did little for the chill of the mist in the Black Forest, and he disliked the cold.

His stomach rumbled, and he thought back to the small village he had just cleansed. Several of the houses had breakfast being cooked in them. It was probably still warm in at least one of them, so he decided to drop by and get something for the road.

He couldn't afford to waste time. There was another Quincy settlement somewhere in northern Romania he had to attend to, and time was a precious commodity.

It wasn't good to let an infestation get out of hand, and the Soul Society wasn't going to take care of it.

He sighed.

Damn, it was hard being an exterminator.

Having decided on his course of action, he took a deep cleansing breath.

And turned back toward the small village.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: Well, Chapter 2! If you haven't, check out Pago's stories. It'll make a little more sense about where I am coming from.**_

_**I don't own Bleach, so don't be a dumb bitch and try to sue me.**_

**Chapter 2**

**Warshock**

"KEEP YOUR KNEES _HIGH_, YOU STUPID BASTARDS!"

To say that the Captain of the Second Division was disgruntled would have been an understatement.

Admittedly, it didn't take much to annoy her. Sui-Feng could become miffed at the slightest things. A light breeze while practicing meditative Tai-Chi may blow a silky strand of her jet-black hair into her face, utterly ruining the peace she was trying to build. Her morning tea was sometimes (due to her own incompetence at cooking) too hot or too cold, which did not help her daily irritations one bit. She may get a dot of ink upon her fingers while filling out paperwork at her desk, and that was always a complete _bitch_ to clean off.

Or she might have to oversee the Shino Academy's Division 2 hopefuls in exercises.

Something her Lieutenant would normally handle.

She sighed. '_But, then again, Marechiyo handled a LOT of things that I have to oversee now…'_

Sui-Feng looked around at the cadets in front of her. Nice, neat, orderly rows of possible recruits for her to command, currently holding a strangely contorted stance as she barked them through their Hakuda katas.

She sighed.

They were _still_ doing it wrong.

Sui-Feng pinched the bridge of her nose in an unsuccessful attempt to alleviate her migraine. The fan in her left hand snapped open—and shut—and open again. It was there to help her stay cool in the heat of the day, but had found a new purpose that didn't meet the function it was made for.

Namely, having its wooden frame cracked upon a skull.

And, looking down the line, she noticed a brand-new opportunity to use it so.

A quick shunpo to the end of the line, and…

_**SSSWAPPP!**_

Bullseye.

To the credit of her victim, he did not cry out, merely flinching from the stinging sensation of having his cranium bruised by a fan. This show of fortitude, however, did not spare him from the diminutive Captain's ire.

"ATTENTION! ABOUT FACE! CADET MIYAZAKI, STAY AS YOU ARE!"

The assembled cadets did as bidden, and Sui-Feng pinned them with her glare.

"I have been Captain of the Second Division and Commander-in-Chief of the Onmitsukido for over a century. I have seen members of both come and go, and watched as even the most _incompetent_ cadets rise through the ranks," she stated, an eerie calm in her voice.

The raw recruits tensed up.

This was _not_ going to be good.

She continued. "However…in all my days, _never_ have I had to deal with a recruit who did not possess a _basic _level of education."

Sui-Feng turned to the still-in-form Miyazaki, gesturing with her fan. A hint of red steel entered her voice. "Can anyone tell me what is wrong with this picture?"

No one answered.

Propping her right elbow in her left palm, she tapped the fan against her chin.

"Tell me. Or. Else."

A short silence ensued, until a hand was hesitantly raised in the front row.

Still staring a pair of holes into the side of Miyazaki's sweating temple, she gave a curt nod.

"He's…uh…"

Sui-Feng's glittering sable eyes slid over to the man, silently demanding his answer. He swallowed unhappily.

"He's…on the wrong foot, ma'am."

The Captain nodded.

"On the wrong foot." Once again, she pinned Miyazaki down with her stare. "Miyazaki, stand at attention."

As he obeyed, Sui-Feng turned to the rest of the class. "Today, cadets, we will be having a remedial lesson on how to tell _left_ from _right_." Looking to Miyazaki, she barked, "Cadet! When I give the signal, you will hold out your right hand! Ready—GO!"

The poor man held out what he fervently prayed was his right hand.

Silence fell.

The class shifted uncomfortably.

Sui-Feng stared.

Miyazaki felt his stomach bottom out.

"Cadet Miyazaki…" Captain Feng said quietly.

"…yes, ma'am?"

"I ordered you to hold out…_what_ hand?"

A dry swallow was heard.

"The…the right one, ma'am."

"That's right, Cadet. The _right_ one."

_**CRACK!**_

"_AAAAAGH!"_

Miyazaki clutched his hand to his chest as a red-faced Sui-Feng gave full vent to her spleen. "_THE RIGHT HAND! THE RIGHT, GODDAMMIT, NOT YOUR LEFT! THE RIGHT! HOW THE HELL DOES A FUCKING RETARD LIKE YOU GET INTO THE ACADEMY WITHOUT BEING ABLE TO TELL BASIC DIRECTIONS?!"_

She paused, a vein pulsing in her temple. Taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself, she raised her fan to try and cool down…only to find that her bone-breaking blow to the unfortunate cadet's hand had splintered the thing's frame beyond opening.

She shook the ruined fan before the flinching man's face.

"_And who the HELL gave you permission to break my fan?!" _she roared.

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Sui-Feng made her way back to the headquarters of the Second Division, tired, frustrated, and hot. The heat had not let up for the rest of the training session, and had only gotten worse by the time she let the recruits go. She had forced Miyazaki to participate in the final sparring session, using _both_ hands.

Perhaps the pain from his broken hand whenever he landed a punch would make the inevitable passive-aggressive chewing-out she would get from Unohana worthwhile.

Sighing, she leaned against the wall of a restaurant, taking in the sights and sounds of the Soul Society bustling past, and trying to ignore the pounding in her temples.

It wouldn't make it worthwhile, and Sui-Feng knew it.

She had never struck a cadet before, at least not enough to injure them. But she would _not_ apologize. After all, her irritation was not her fault.

It all boiled down to the War. Even after the official end, her patience had been on a hair-trigger.

Ever since her battle with Baraggan Louisenbairn, she had had nothing but headache after endless headache. Having her arm healed by the Inoue girl, leading a hastily put-together Search and Destroy team through Las Noches that had ultimately failed to quash any more irritating Arrancar from trying to enact further aggressions…

Telling the Omaeda family that their oldest son had died in the final battle…

Her migraine gave another cold stab into her brain.

As much as she hated to admit it, that had been the worst part of the whole war.

'_**Maybe you feel responsible?'**_

Sui-Feng's left eyebrow gave a twitch at the high, piping voice of Suzumebachi, her Zanpakuto, echoing in her mindscape.

"No, I do _not_. Omaeda knew what he was getting into. It wasn't my fault if he was too much of a lardass to get out of Louisenbairn's Respira."

And, in truth, she wasn't responsible. As Sui-Feng resumed her slow walk back to her headquarters, she reflected on the events of the battle.

Respira was a powerful technique…but a _slow_ one. Omaeda was quick, but his great size (more _horizontal_ than vertical) had slowed him up somewhat. The Breath of Death had caught him at the feet…

The diminutive Captain's eyes narrowed at the memory of the look of stark _terror_ on Omaeda's face as the cloud of old age had eaten him alive from the toes up.

A horrifying way to go.

Even _if_ she didn't like Omaeda much, she wouldn't wish that on anybody.

'_**Well, anyway, we're well shot of him. He was stupid and loud!'**_

Sui-Feng let out a dry chuckle at that. "You always _were_ pragmatic."

The small hornet in her mindscape buzzed its wings lackadaisically.

Sui-Feng sighed hard. With Omaeda's death had come numerous complications, to say the least. She was now short her right-hand man, who, despite his disgusting habits and irritating nature, had done a fairly decent job of maintaining order for her. He did all his paperwork (an image of Rangiku Matsumoto from Division 10 scampered through her head at this, causing her to snort), and he was well-liked by the men.

His death had affected not just her squad, but her on a personal level, as well. While it was true that the man had been…frustrating, he was…well, _amusing_ to have around. He was bumbly, and easily flustered, thus an easy mark for pranks. And while Sui-Feng had never outright laughed at him, he was always good for a smirk.

'_And now he's dead.'_

She shook her head. Problems, problems indeed.

The Captain-Commander, Genryuusai Shigekuni Yamamoto, had given her a few weeks, for his own benefit as much as anyone else's, she surmised. He'd had to have the human girl, Orihime, heal him as well, and then, after everything was all said and done, he had to deal with the fact that one of his favorite pupils, Jushiro Ukitake, Captain of the Thirteenth Division, was in a coma, and essentially on his deathbed.

The poor man, never in the best of health, had passed some months ago.

And with that, after the customary period of mourning, had come some changes to the Soul Society.

There were vacancies in the rosters of the Gotei Thirteen to fill, and Captain-Commander Yamamoto had taken the steps to fill them.

Renji Abarai, former Lieutenant of Squad Six, was now a full Captain, head of Squad Five, formerly commanded by the traitor, Sosuke Aizen.

Ichigo Kurosaki, Substitute Soul Reaper, Hero of the Winter War, had been offered the Captaincy of Squad Nine, which had been operated by Kaname Tosen, but had turned it down in order to live his life as a human. The position was being held over for him, and would be taken by him when he felt ready.

And Squad Thirteen had been taken by Anrak Ushii. Much to her chagrin.

She _hated_ that man, but her Lady, Yoruichi Shihoin, was happy with it, so she left it alone.

This left only Squad 3 un-Captained, and it had been placed under the auspices of Squad 7.

These appointments were significant in the fact that none of these men had taken (or been offered, in Kurosaki's case) the positions by Right of Conquest, Right of Referral, or Right of Competency. They had been _appointed_, which was unheard of.

More changes had happened as well, and Sui-Feng pondered these as she reached her division, and made her way to her office.

The Academy's graduation dates had been sped up to a four-year program instead of a six-year program, in order to fill the vacancies left by over a third of their active-duty members being killed in the War. The number of men in each squad had been upped to three-hundred and twenty members from two-hundred and forty, meaning more warm bodies to train and keep up with.

And, possibly the biggest change, was the fact that Soul Reapers were being stationed, not just in the greater parts of Asia…

…_but around the whole world._

Which was a major pain in the ass.

_Particularly_ without a Lieutenant to delegate duties to.

Sui-Feng sat at her desk, head pounding at the next memory assaulting her brain.

The Head Captain had summoned her a few weeks afterward, ostensibly for a cup of tea.

A typical ho-hum-humdrum discussion followed, tried-and-true remarks about the weather, and division matters, and how the family was doing…

…and then he had asked her about filling her Lieutenant's empty position.

He had been…_magnanimous_ about it. Yamamoto had told her that, while it was urgent, it was in no way so urgent as to make her feel rushed. Choosing a new right hand was an undertaking not to be haphazardly gone about, and needed consideration.

But that had been _months_ ago. And she had yet to choose one.

Leaning her chin on her fist, Sui-Feng once again considered her priorities. She didn't want another Omaeda. As amusing and…barely marginally adequate as he had been, she needed someone with a bit more…

Self-reliance.

Omaeda had used her as a crutch. At every turn, he had begged, asked, and demanded her thoughts on this matter or the other, and distracted her from her own duties. She wanted a Lieutenant who had experience in these matters, someone who could make their own decisions without seeking her input at every dead end.

She needed a Chojiro Sasakibe, a Kaien Shiba, a Nanao Ise, a…a Neliel tu Odelschvank-Ushii (who was a good Lieutenant, no matter how loathe Sui-Feng was to admit it).

The only problem being that type of person was rare, indeed, and obviously not present in her squad. Or any other squad.

She sighed.

It was a conundrum. A real puzzler.

A knocking at her door shook her out of her reverie, an automatic "Enter" escaping her lips.

At the sight of the Shinigami entering, Sui-Feng's headache dissipated a little.

"Soul Reaper Rawlings. How can I help you?"

The young man gave her a sharp salute instead of a bow, and held a letter out to her in his hand. "Good evenin', Cap'n. I was just ordah'd ta bring you this here command, direct from the Cap'n-Commanduh himself. He requiahs an immediate response."

Captain Feng arched an eyebrow from its usual scowl. If the Captain-Commander was sending orders by paper, and not by Hell Butterfly, as was customary, then it must have been important. Official business was _always_ written.

She took the letter from him, snapped the wax seal (noting the Captain-Commander's ornate coat-of-arms upon it), and unfolded the letter.

A summons for a Captain's meeting…and a personal note to her…

After reading it, she sighed, leaning back in her seat. Holding the paper in her hands, it began to smolder, and then disintegrated in a flash of blue kido.

"You may leave, Rawlings."

The young Soul Reaper blinked. "Uh…beg pahdon, ma'am, but I was ordah'd-"

"I realize that, Rawlings, but there is no need to carry a response back." Sui-Feng stood up from her desk.

"I will give my response to the Captain-Commander…_personally._"

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"I am still unsure of this, Genryuusai."

The soft, almost breathy voice of Retsu Unohana, Captain and Head Healer of the Fourth Division, rang through the Captain-Commander's study, a note of apprehension coloring it. The black-braided lady stood next to Yamamoto behind his desk, hands clasped in front of her and eyes respectfully down.

The much older man seated in the chair before her grunted. "And, as I said before, Retsu, I see no other choice before us. We are still radically unstable, and the situation unfolding before us calls for strength."

Retsu allowed a small frown to mar her delicate features. "Even so, is it really wise of us to recall…_him_, sir? You speak of stability, but his psychological profile, as well as the field reports over the last few decades, indicate anything _but_ stability."

Genryuusai Shigekuni Yamamoto allowed one eye to slide open and peer at the woman beside him.

"We have no choice."

Unohana gave a small sigh.

"Besides…"

She blinked at him.

"The order has been given already. He will be present at the Captain's Meeting within the next few hours, and will receive his assignment there."

Retsu gave a reluctant nod of her head. "Yes, Captain-Commander."

She turned to the door, and was gone after a few short steps.

Yamamoto sighed as soon as her reiatsu was a respectable distance away. He had two people that he _knew_ he could rely upon at any hour of the day or night, and one of them doubted his wisdom.

It wasn't like he couldn't understand her apprehension, after all. The topic of their discussion hadn't been a true member of the Soul Society for almost a millennium, and only God knew how that would affect his already shaky grip on sanity.

He gave a raspy sigh.

It wasn't like he…_they…_ had much choice in the end.

Even with all the recent changes, Soul Society was in a crisis, and strength was called for.

And, if there was one person outside Soul Society with the reputation for strength, and the raw power to back it up…

It was the Lost Agent, Tatter de Malion.


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: Alritey, y'all, new chappie of Mending! Soo happeeee! Sorry that it took me three tries to get it, my PC's acting gay...piece o' shit...anyway, didn't think I could do this while on break!Just so ya guys know, any oc's are most likely not mine. Tyn Tethys, Takk, and Satsu (as well as a few others not mentioned) all belong to mah boss, Pago, who has so gracefully let me play in his sandbox! Enjeru and other characters belong to Ryumaju. Okuni Takahashi belongs to the illustrious BlackVelvetBand. If you haven't checked any of them out, then you need to do so, particularly Pago's stories! This will all make so much more sense if you do! Now go on, I'll wait...ya do it? Good!**_

_**Btw, Twitter me Ziggygebs777**_

_**Just...twitter gently...(blush)**_

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**Old, New, Unknown Faces**

Sui-Feng sat at the desk of the Captain-Commander, a warm mug of ginseng tea in her left hand. Taking a sip from it, she considered the file in her right.

"Tatter de Malion?" She took another sip from the tea, savoring the slight burn of the still-hot liquid.

"Never heard of him." She tossed the file to the surface of the desk, letting the papers spill out slightly, and leaned back into the chair, crossing her legs as she did.

Yamamoto nodded slightly. "You wouldn't have, more than likely. As you read, he has spent the majority of the last millennium in the field."

Sui-Feng arched a brow and placed her cup on the desk. "Former Onmitsukido, and I've never even heard his Codename? Not even a picture? Captain-Commander, no offense, but that doesn't exactly fill me with...confidence." The petite Captain gestured toward the folder. "And his psych profile...sounds to me like he's some sort of...jumped-up...half-cocked nutcase with a personal grudge. Besides," and she crossed her arms. "I don't even know what this 'Ichimonji Incident' is."

The old man nodded. "Highly classified. Technically on a need-to-know basis, and–"

Sui-Feng snorted. "I don't need to know." The old man across nodded his scarred head. She sighed. "Fine, then. When are we expecting his arrival?"

"In three hours. He is escorting two other Soul Reapers from Karakura Town. I trust you remember the Kudo twins?"

The only sign of Sui-Feng's irritation was a slight tightening of the mouth. "Yes."

The Captain-Commander gave a nod. "Very well, then. Dismissed."

Sui-Feng stiffly got up and folded her arms in her sleeves. Making her way to the door, she made to leave.

"Sui-Feng."

She turned.

"I do not wish this to turn into a repeat of the Ayasegawa Incident." He raised a hoary brow at the slight scowl that darkened Sui-Feng's brow. "Am I understood?"

A slight sniggering in the back of her mind (needling from Suzumebachi) made her blood pressure rise by several beats. _Why_ the man had to bring _that_ up was utterly beyond her...

"I assure you, Sir," she said stiffly, "that will not be an issue." She bowed at the waist, and resumed her dismissal.

_**'He's right, you know...you did do a number on poor Yumichika...'**_

The small Captain grit her teeth as she stalked down the long hallway that led to the First Division main office. "Let it alone, Su'..."

_**'But it **_**is **_**kinda funny...'**_

"Maybe from your point of view..." Sui-Feng mumbled under her breath.

Some minutes later, after navigating the labyrinthine corridors that led to the sunshine, Captain Sui-Feng considered her situation. In reality, it wasn't so bad, she thought. True, she didn't like having her decisions made for her...but, in all fairness, she had been at a loss for what to do...especially after Ayasegawa...

She allowed some of the tension in her shoulders to melt away at the rather positive thought. Yes...yes, this could work out for the best...and from what she remembered about the Kudo twins, they could turn out to be real assets as well...who cared if she knew next to nothing of this de Malion fellow? If push came to shove, either Fujimaru, the boy sibling, or Matsuri, the girl, would make suitable Lieutenants, having achieved Bankai...

_**'Oooh, choose Fujimaru! He's-"**_

"Su'. Shut up."

Sui-Feng nodded to herself as she passed through the gates of First Division, absently acknowledging the respectful bow from the guards with a wave of a hand. Yes, this day was turning out just fine after–

"Well, well, well, look who it is! Little Sui-Feng!"

The earlier tension in her shoulders returned with the smoky-smooth tones of Captain Kyoraku.

Gritting her teeth, Sui-Feng politely (and with some considerable inner turmoil) slowed her pace to allow her fellow Captain and self-styled "friend" to walk beside her.

"Hello, Kyoraku."

Throwing a hand to his brow, the flamboyantly-dressed man gave a mock look of hurt at his fellow Captain. "Oh, dear and lovely Sui-Feng, why so distant today?"

She cut her eyes at him and resisted the urge to roll them at both the Eighth Captain and the uproarious laughing fit Suzumebachi was having in her mindscape. "I fail to see how my attitude is so different today than yesterday, last week, or last year, Captain Kyoraku."

"Well, I believe I have told you to call me Shunsui at least a hundred times..."

'_One hundred-nineteen in the last month...' _"It is a matter of professional courtesy, Kyoraku. And I wish you would extend the same to me."

Tipping his straw hat back, Shunsui Kyoraku rubbed his chin, producing a scratchy sound upon his whiskers, smiled sunnily, and shrugged.

"I suppose I could, but where would the brotherhood between Captains be then?"

Sui-Feng chugged a breath and sped up.

Shunsui Kyoraku failed to take the hint.

"In all seriousness, Sui-Feng, what's wrong? You do seem even more out of sorts than usual...could it be your diet? Or your bed? Is your mattress lumpy? Or..." And here, he stopped in his tracks.

Sui-Feng, against her better judgement, turned around. Kyoraku had his mouth gaping open, eyes wide and a hand on his chest.

She sighed.

More of the Shunsui Kyoraku brand of histrionics, no doubt.

"Or...could it be...the darkness of mood that comes from..._unrequited love?!_"

At this shriek of romantically-minded outrage, everyone on the street in between the First and Second Divisions stopped and stared at the two Captains, the taller having sunk to his knees, fist raised to the sky.

The Second Division Captain had to resist the urge to slit the man's throat.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she took a deep, calming breath. Why did this have to happen to her? All she wanted to do was go back to her plain little office, finish up the combined paperwork of a Captain and Lieutenant, attend this stupid meeting, get her psychotic new subordinate, and go home, where her favorite fluffy bathrobe and slippers (both with a matching honeybee motif) that Lady Yoruichi had gotten for her birthday were waiting for her.

Instead, here she was, staring at what was _supposed_ to be a dignified Captain of the Gotei Thirteen mock-bawling his eyes out to the heavens and demanding his conspicuously absent Lieutenant to bring him his "sake of star-crossed lovers".

Oh, how she wished she could switch places with the fortunate Nanao Ise right now...

"Captain..."

"–_how cruel are the fates–_

"Kyoraku."

"–_little Okuni will make a song, and–"_

**"SHUNSUI!"**

The sniveling man, his pink haori dusty, looked up from his cupped hands and gave a brilliant smile.

"Why, yes, Sui-Feng, how can I be of service?"

Feeling the drive to snap cartilage and bone between her hands, Sui-Feng dragged in another breath. "I did not get jilted by a lover, Shunsui," she said as calmly as she could. "You should know, as well as _anyone_, that I do not have the time, patience, or inclination to deal with such idiocy."

Shunsui got up from his knees, absently beating the dirt from his clothing. "Then what, pray tell, caused your foul mood to turn even more fouler?"

Ignoring the poor grammar, Sui-Feng turned back around and began walking again, correctly assuming that he would follow. "I am irritated because I find that certain decisions are being taken out of my hands, and my colleagues are acting like children."

Shunsui merely nodded his head. "Yes, I can certainly understand that. Immature Captains...what is the world coming to?"

A small growl was his only answer.

Folding his hands into his sleeves, he smiled. "Well, Sui-Feng, I _have _been told that I am a rather good listener..."

Stopping outside the gates of Division Two, Sui-Feng turned to her dramatic counterpart. "You aren't going to leave me alone until I talk, are you?" He shook his head cheerfully. Damn, but the man could be useful in an interrogation. "Well, Kyo..._Shunsui_," she amended, seeing his patronizing smile, "it would appear that the decision of choosing my own Lieutenant has been taken out of my hands."

"Well, Sui-Feng, that's not very surprising...it _has _been over two years..."

She nodded impatiently. "Yes, yes, I'm well aware of that."

"We had three empty Divisions; we Captained two of them in a matter of months, and one of those had a Lieutenant within _days_..."

Sui-Feng waved a hand in the air, urging him to get it over with.

"And then there's the fact that you've had the pick of anyone in the Gotei to choose from that wasn't already a Lieutenant."

She glared at the tall man. "I am perfectly aware of that as well..."

"I really can't blame anyone for not taking your offers after what happened with Third Seat Ayasegawa. I mean, really, did poor Yumichika deserve _that? _He was only trying to be helpful...in his own way..."

A flat stare met his level gaze.

"Why," Sui-Feng asked, "does everyone feel bound and determined to bring that up?"

Shunsui Kyoraku leaned down until his eyes were level with hers. "Because, Sui-Feng, sometimes the best way to ensure that something does not happen again is constant reminding of the misdeed."

Working her jaw, she gave him her best gimlet stare.

He returned it with a gentle smile.

"Now," he said, "you said that your Lieutenant has been chosen for you?"

A nod.

"And?"

Sui-Feng cocked an eyebrow. "And...what?"

The Captain of Division Eight sighed dramatically. "And _who is it?!_"

Sui-Feng sighed. "I don't know him...some former Onmitsukido member, codename Tatter de Malion."

Dear reader, it is time to consider something. In order to be a Captain of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads, one must exhibit certain traits. Actual leadership ability, a certain amount of charisma, and, most obviously, a high level of spiritual power are required. However, there are other, more subtle characteristics that actually pertain to the Division's purpose. An obvious example would be the Fourth Division. A Soul Reaper of Captain-Level reiatsu with no healing capability, but plenty of piss and vinegar in a fight, would probably be more suited to the environs of the Eleventh Squad (like Captain Zaraki) than the quiet, hallowed halls of the Fourth Division. Likewise, the Shinigami in the Onmitsukido are chosen based upon their...quieter skills.

Seeing what lies beneath an obvious facade was one of the most basic skills looked for.

Captain Sui-Feng was _particularly_ good at it.

At the mention of the words "Tatter de Malion", Shunsui Kyoraku's left cheek twitched. His smile did not drop, his eyes did not flicker.

But his cheek _did _twitch.

And Sui-Feng just happened to see it.

Black eyes narrowed dangerously.

"You know this man."

It was not a question.

"...after a fashion, yes. Jushiro and I graduated from the academy with...a...relative of his." It was an obvious lie. Honestly, she would have believed him more if he had made some silly excuse about having to go do paperwork or something.

Sui-Feng crossed her arms under her bosom. "Is there something you want to tell me, Captain Kyoraku?"

Shunsui Kyoraku's mouth worked for a moment, obviously chewing over a thought; he then discarded it and turned away.

"Just be careful, Sui-Feng. Be _very _careful around him."

Before she could stop him, the Eighth Squad Captain flickered out of existence, Shunpo taking him to God knew where.

Sui-Feng lingered for a moment, a wrinkle in her brow marring her features. This was the second strange reading on the man she had gotten from two different Captains. The first was Retsu Unohana and her little footnote within the comments section of de Malion's psych evaluation: "Do not get in his way." Now, Shunsui Kyoraku, the most flighty and lackadaisical of the Captains, was telling her to be careful...

She shook her head, braids swinging against her back. It was too hot to be concerned, she had work to do, and, frankly, she was tired of thinking about it.

_**'I'll tell you what I'm not tired of thinking about..."**_

Sui-Feng narrowed her eyes as she walked into her division.

"I swear to any gods that might be listening, if you mention Kyoraku's butt..."

A slightly annoying snicker was all that replied.

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"Fujimaru!"

A young, blond girl wandered through the rooms of the Urahara Shop, bare feet padding on the wooden floor. As silence answered her summons, she placed her fists upon her hips and sighed aloud.

"Come on, brother, where are you now?"

She poked her head through the window next to her, blinking her blue eyes in the afternoon sun. Not outside. She walked to the kitchen. Not there. Looked in his room...again...not present.

The girl began to stalk through the rest of the building, darting looks left and right into the rooms she passed, muttering under her breath with each step.

"I swear...never around when you need him...idiotic, lazy little..."

In her state, she did not notice the small child sweeping the hallway until she ran into them.

"Oof!"

The small figure sat down with a small "bump" as the searcher rubbed her stomach and looked down.

"Oh, Ururu, I'm so sorry! I didn't see you there!"

Ururu Tsumigiya accepted the hand held out to her and rubbed her bottom. Shyly peeking out from beneath her bangs, she shook her head.

"I-it's alright, Miss Matsuri..."

Matsuri Kudo gave a small, reassuring smile to the child before bending down and picking up the straw broom, frowning as she did so.

"I thought," she said, "that it was Jinta's day to sweep the shop."

Ururu took the broom from Matsuri and fidgeted, looking down at the ground. "Um...Jinta...he had...uh..."

Matsuri placed a hand on the little girl's black-haired head."Did he bully you into doing his chores again?"

"N-no...he had a soccer game t-today...Mr. Urahara asked me to sweep for him..."

Matsuri sighed and nodded. "Well, that's alright then. Hey," she said, brightening up."Have you seen my brother anywhere? I can't see to find him at all..."

Ururu's eyes went to the side as she gave it some thought. "Um...n-no...but...maybe Miss Yoruichi has..." Motioning for Matsuri to follow her, she trotted to a room at the end of the hall, trailing the broom, and knocked at the door.

Several thumps sounded, and then the door opened, exposing a robe-clad Yoruichi Shihoin sleepily blinking at them.

"Oh...hey...what's up, Ururu?"

Ururu hastily bowed. "I'm s-sorry for waking you up, Miss Yoruichi," she quickly stammered, a blush blazing her face.

Yoruichi yawned and waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it...time to get up, anyway."

Matsuri smiled. "We were wondering if you've seen my brother at all. It's almost time for us to leave, and I can't find him anywhere..."

The dark-skinned woman scratched her head, a small crease wrinkling her brow. "Hmmm...no...I haven't seen him all day...come to think of it, I haven't seen Kisuke, either..."

Matsuri sighed. "Well, we leave in a half-hour. Not much point to me leaving without him..."

"Looking for dear Fujimaru?"

Matsuri and Ururu jumped at the voice that suddenly sounded behind them. Kisuke Urahara chucked and waved his fan. "I swear," he sang, "that is never, and I mean _never, _going to get old."

Yoruichi grinned at the hyperventilating Ururu and the blushing Matsuri. "Stop it, Kisuke, they're going to have heart attacks. Yeah, have you seen him anywhere?"

Kisuke smiled. "Yep! He's on the roof, taking a nap."

Matsuri gave a groan from the very chain of her soul. "Again?! Ugh, I swear, he'd have slept through the Winter War if he'd the chance...lemme go get him..."

The other three watched her as she stormed off, muttering once more. As soon as she rounded the corner, Kisuke sighed and rubbed his temples. "I swear to God. This has been the month from Hell..."

Yoruichi nodded, fighting back another yawn. "I know. I like those two and all, but, still...couldn't they have stayed with Ichigo for a while instead of here?" She sighed. "This is it, right? No more night shift for me? I'm bushed..."

Kisuke gave a sharp bob of the head. "Yeah, this is it. We can get _those _two gone, and get our _other_ guests home..."

"Are they antsy?"

A grim, near hunted look met the cat's question. "You have no idea...Feathers and Cutey-Kitty are about to peel each other's faces off, and and it's only a matter of time before Jaws tries to kill them both..."

Yoruichi grimaced. "Well, only a few more minutes..."

Kisuke got a distinctly uncomfortable look.

"True, but..."

Golden eyes narrowed. "But...what, Kisuke?"

"That rogue they told us we're rendezvousing with? It's de Malion."

Stunned silence ensued, with Yoruichi's shock written plainly over her features. "Are they _insane?_ Why would they–"

"U-um...excuse me...but who?"

At the small sound from around waist-level, Yoruichi quickly put a more cheerful look on in an attempt to alleviate the worry in Ururu's voice. "Nobody you need to worry about, sweetie. Hey," and a bright and mischievous smile fixed itself on her mouth. "Why don't you go help Matsuri wake up her brother? Go and give her a big glass of cold water, 'kay?"

As Ururu raced off to do as she was told, Kisuke looked at the watch he kept in his pocket. "I'd better go get the portals set up, then. Go make sure the others keep quiet, Yo'. Don't want to blow their cover when _he's _around..."

The woman nodded, sighing. "Alright, alright...wait..._portals? _Where is he, then?"

Kisuke cocked a brow as he began making his way to his lab. "In Hueco Mundo."

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_**15 minutes later...**_

"Aaaaand...there we go!"

Kisuke stepped back as the garganta opened up to the empty space present between the Living World and the Hollow Realm, blowing an ice-cold wind into the room. Kisuke shivered and wrapped his jacket around him tightly. "Must be night over there," he joked to himself, trying to lighten the tension in his gut.

If he were to be honest, however...he agreed with Yoruichi. Tatter de Malion was notoriously unstable. While it was wise for Soul Society to consolidate power by calling in Shinigami from diaspora and giving amnesty for runaways and rogues, he could not help but feel that recalling the Butcher of Quincies was a bit...well, _much._

But, he had no say in the matter. After all, he, Yoruichi, and Tessai were still up in the air about returning. There were considerable advantages to going, but equally so for staying...

It certainly bore thought...

Voices on the ladder brought him back to the matter at hand.

"–still no reason to pour ice water on me, Matsuri!"

"I don't want to hear it, Sir Napsalot! I told you we had to get ready to leave, and what did you do? Up on the roof! Again!"

The two voices gained ownership as Matsuri stomped in, already out of Gigai and with a rucksack over her shoulder. She was followed by her twin brother, Fujimaru, who was also in his spirit form, with what appeared to be a pillowcase slung over his back.

"But I _did _get ready!" he whined, brushing his slightly-darker blond hair out of his eyes. He yawned, and nearly strangled on the breath as his sister spun around on a heel and jabbed a finger in front of his face.

"Grabbing a sack and _throwing_ your junk in is _not_ getting ready!"

Kisuke interrupted, waving his hands calmingly and laughing to death on the inside. "Now, now, Matsuri, he's here and that is all that counts, right?"

Matsuri snorted and crossed her arms, cutting her eyes at Fujimaru, who merely rubbed the back of his head.

"Alrighty, then. Now, before you get underway, we have to wait for your escort." At this, Kisuke suddenly turned serious. "Listen to me, the both of you. This guy does _not_ like to be messed with. At all. So that means _you,_" and he pointed at Fujimaru, "are not gong to be annoying, and _you,_" and he stared at Matsuri, "are not going to be your usual busybody self. You should be fine around him, but he is a little unpredictable, so just..._be aware..._" They nodded rapidly at his words.

Another cold gust of wind swept in from the garganta, and the sound of rapid steps echoed in from its depths. Kisuke turned around, and spied a small figure quickly growing larger as it came closer.

He turned back to the twins, gave them a meaningful look, and then looked back at the mouth of the tunnel as Tatter de Malion stepped out.

The Lost Agent known to the world as the Butcher, the Ragged Man, or Redcloak, depending on where in the world you happened to be in, was rather tall. He seemed to loom over Kisuke, the difference of a mere few inches seeming to turn into feet. His mouth was hidden behind a brown scarf, leaving only the bridge of his nose and eyes visible to the world. His hair and head were hidden from view as well, more brown cloth in the form of a hood protecting it from the elements. A ragged and travel-stained cloak, fastened at the shoulder with a large bone emblem, swept around him from neck to ankle, and seemed to flow around him in the windless room. Crimson irises flashed as he stopped for a second, looking around the room quickly as if checking for something, and then he gazed at the three other beings in the room, taking everything in at a glance.

"Ah, Tatter, my old friend! How've you been?" Kisuke smiled broadly and extended a hand to the man.

De Malion looked at the hand and opted for a nod of the head. In a voice harsh from disuse, he said, "Sorry, Kisuke, but I know where those hands have been."

Kisuke chuckled weakly and wiped his hands upon his pants leg. "Well, it's still good to see you. Been too long, eh?"

"Yes, Urahara, I count the minutes." The flat reply drew stares from the two Kudos, which served to give him an opportunity to grace them with the benefit of his attention.

"So, these the two?"

Kisuke gave a nervous little laugh as he nodded. "Yeah. The boy is Fujimaru and the girl is Matsuri."

The twins gave perfunctory bows at the man in the ragged tentoken, and he nodded at them in turn.

Kisuke spoke again. "So, I see you got a haircut..."

Tatter de Malion merely gave a flat stare at the man from under his hood.

Kisuke gave a forced smile and looked down. "New boots, too, eh?"

Tatter lifted a foot, letting the silver filigree of his black footwear shine dully in the light.

"Um..."

The men looked up at Matsuri, who had fallen back into silence at their stare.

"What?" de Malion asked gruffly.

"Sorry...it's just...we're expected in the Soul Society, and..."

Kisuke nodded and took out his watch again. "Yes, yes, we have a tight schedule to keep. You should get going. My little portal," and with this, he motioned to the Senkaimon, "should minimize the whole 'time-distortion' effect to only a few seconds, but I don't want to keep it open longer than I have to."

Tatter de Malion nodded and turned to the others. "Alright. Let's get going. I ain't carrying your shit for ya, and no complaining about how fast we go, got it?"

Fujimaru scoffed and said, "Ah, don't worry about us, man. We'll be fine."

Tatter was silent for a moment. "Very well, then," he said slowly.

And then, without warning, he leapt into the Senkaimon.

Kisuke motioned frantically toward the twins. "Go, go, quickly! The gate won't hold that field for long!"

Fujimaru grabbed his and Matsuri's bags. "Come on, sis! No time like the present!" Taking a few steps back, he got a running start and dove into the portal.

Matsuri turned to Urahara and bowed. "Thank you for letting us stay here, Mr. Urahara. Tell Miss Yoruichi and everyone else we said goodbye!"

She then stepped into the glowing gate and disappeared from view. The gate then closed, and there was no sign that they had ever been there.

Kisuke sighed and rubbed his temples. He then went over to the garganta and deactivated it.

Then he stomped on the floorboards.

An unseen trapdoor sprang up and Yoruichi poked her head through. "They gone?"

A nod.

She sighed in relief. "Finally." She turned her head down, looking into the space beneath the floor. "Okay, everyone, all clear. Time to come out!"

Following her came a rather tired-looking man with shoulder-length brown hair and a goatee. "Finally. I don't know if I could take another day of that." He scratched his chin and leaned back down, grabbing a small hand. "Come on, Lilynette. Up and attem."

Lilynette Gingerback scowled at him. "Ah, shut up, Starrk, I'm coming." She clambered out and stretched. "Whoo! Good to be outta there!"

A pale hand grasped the edge of the floor and pulled out a slender figure in one smooth motion. "Indeed," said Ulquiorra Schiffer. "It is a relief to be able to escape that den."

He turned toward the ladder. "Do you require any assistance, Tia?"

The sound of thuds and small grunts of pain answered him, accompanied by the whiskey-rough voice of Tia Halibel. "No, Ulquiorra, I think they get it now." She climbed out of the cavern, and turned back to the ladder as a scarlet-haired man came out of it, nursing a black eye. "Damn, Tia," he complained. "You didn't have to hit me so hard..."

She rolled her eyes. "Quit whining, Tyn."

"Yeah, Tyn, quit your bitchin' and lemme out!"

At the harsh voice beneath him, Tyn kicked down and connected with something, for which Tia punched him upside the head.

"OW!"

"Then _stop fighting, dammit!"_

After Tyn came the bloodied face of Grimmjow Jeagerjaques, eyes blazing in rage. "You fuckig _broge by dose, you shidsdain!" _he shrieked, launching himself at Tyn Tethys.

As Tia prepared to dispense some aggressive mediation, Kisuke chuckled and turned away, shaking his head. He understood the short tempers. Spending a month in his underground training facility because of two unfamiliar Soul Reapers being in town would drive anyone up the wall, let alone a bunch of Arrancar, Gigai or no.

His musing was inrpterrupted by Yoruichi Shihoin. "Hey, Kisuke?"

"Yeah, Yo'?"

She had a look of concentration on her face. "What's today?"

He thought for a moment. "Well...uh...it's the fifteenth, isn't it?"

Yoruichi's face tightened in concentration. "Are you sure? I thought it was the sixteenth..."

Kisuke shook his head and pulled out his watch. "No...I'm pretty sure it's the fifteenth. Why?"

"Because the Cleaner runs on the fifteenth."

Kisuke nodded in understanding. "Oh, no, I'm pretty sure the Cleaner runs on the sixteenth this month. No way I'd make that kind of..." And his eyes fell on the little date timer on his watch. " ...mistake..."

Yoruichi's eyes grew wide. "What's wrong?" she asked breathlessly, a knot of dread tightening in her stomach.

Kisuke looked at her impassively, his face pale. He turned his watch to her. Beside the little ticker that ran "15" was a small letter "C".

"C" stood for "Cleaner".

Yoruichi looked up at Kisuke, and they both turned to the deactivated Senkaimon Generator.

They voiced their thoughts near simultaneously.

"Oh, _shit..."_


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: Hey, friends and loved ones! A new chappie of Mending! YAYUH! Well, not much to say here, except more thanks to Pago for letting me kick back in his house! Please, please, PLEASE read and review his stories! **_

_**Speaking of reviews, I am a little disappointed to see how little reaction this story is getting. I am really into it and excited about it, and would like to see the same! Followers, please spread the word about this story! Also, please drop at least one review, if you read, fave, or alert! I want to know how I'm doing!**_

_**The only OC I own at this point is Tatter de Malion. Anrak Ushii, Kage Shitsukoi (his Zanpakuto) , Takk, Satsu, and Tyn Tethys all belong to Pago. Enjeru belongs to Ryumaju. **_

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**The Asshole is in the Rear**

The room was filled with the gentle murmur of quiet conversation by the remaining Captains and Lieutenants of the Gotei Thirteen, all assembled within the Meeting Hall of the First Division. The enormous body of wolf-headed Sajin Komamura of the Seventh Division was bent nearly double as he listened intently to the slender frame of Shuhei Hisagi, the acting Captain of the Ninth, who was excitedly whispering and gesturing wildly with his hands. Eighth's Shunsui Kyoraku and Nanao Ise were close to two other people, Captain Ushii of the Thirteenth Division and his Lieutenant, Neliel tu Odelschvank–Ushii, the only arrancar to ever serve in the Gotei 13. Neliel was nodding at something Anrak was saying, and Shunsui had an unusually serious expression on his face.

Sui-Feng looked around the rest of the room. Retsu Unohana and Isane Kotetsu were murmuring to each other in the corner. Fifth Captain Renji Abarai was looking a bit lonely, standing by himself with no Lieutenant beside, but Toshiro Hitsugaya and Rangiku Matsumoto of the Tenth Squad were heading his way...well, it seemed that Hitsugaya was more doing his "being dragged" act, but that was hardly new. Byakuya Kuchiki, nobleman and Sixth Division head, was alone as well...and apparently enjoying it, if his calm and composed demeanor was anything to judge by. Kenpachi Zaraki was not present. The Eleventh Division Captain was more than likely lost, probably due to the directions given by a certain small, pink haired child. Mayuri Kurotsuchi was dictating to his...daughter-thing, Nemu, who also filled the function of Lieutenant of the Twelfth Division. She was rapidly scribbling upon a notepad, occasionally nodding as she did.

Sui-Feng gave a small, nearly-silent sigh, her left shoe tapping rapidly against the seki-sekistone that composed the floor. The Captain-Commander was nowhere in sight, and she was eager to get this damn meeting over with.

_**'Relax, Bee. You're going to get wrinkly!'**_

_'Relax, Su'? And how exactly am I supposed to do that, with all the work I have to get done? I don't know why we all have to assemble, anyway; this is a matter between Division Two and First Squad!'_

_**'Well, just think–we get this over with, and you won't have to deal with Miyazaki again!'**_

Sui-Feng flinched a bit. She had forgotten all about that in the hubbub about the new arrivals. Guiltily sneaking a look back in Retsu's direction, she snapped it back as her eyes made contact with the healer's.

_**'Oooh...Captain Mom's going to let you haaaaave iiiiiit...'**_

_'Shut up, Su'...'_

Instead of focusing upon the negatives of her current situation, Sui-Feng decided to pass the time in speculation.

There was little to nothing she didn't know about the Kudos. She considered them...friendly acquaintances from her past, even if they were silly and foolish. No, what really had her puzzling was her sub-in Lieutenant, Tatter de Malion. His physical description had been scanty on details, and as for his past? The bio made it seem as if he had been in Onmitsukido his entire life...certainly he'd had a life before service, since Tatter de Malion was obviously a codename, but there had been absolutely no mention. He'd just appeared one day.

She snorted.

As if she didn't have _enough_ to worry about. Now she had to deal with an unbalanced mystery man.

A sudden burst of activity, the sudden movement of superior and subordinate alike into designated places, signaled the entry of Captain-Commander Genryuusai Shigekuni Yamamoto and his Lieutenant, Chojiro Sasakibe. The older man stumped in, a light hand on his cane/Zanpakuto, Ryujin Jakka. His slitted gaze swept the room, seeing without seeming to truly look, and the already-at-attention group stood a little straighter.

"Captains and Lieutenants of the Gotei Thirteen," he growled.

Sui-Feng rolled her eyes internally. This was going to be long...

"Today, we welcome back into our midst three Soul Reapers of great renown. A handful of you," and at this he pointedly looked at Sui-Feng, "are aware of exactly who they are. However, the majority of you are not. Therefore–"

And this was when all hell broke loose.

The familiar _whoosh_ing of a Senkaimon opening interrupted the Captain-Commander in the middle of his sentence as it suddenly appeared some feet above the middle of the venue. Several of the Captains started, their hands going to their sides and grasping weapons as they stared upwards.

A faint, but distinguishably male voice bellowed "JUMP FOR IT!" and a black-robed figure tumbled out of the gate and fell the ten feet to the floor, landing on his back with an audible grunt of pain.

"Ow..." he muttered as he struggled to sit up, only to be flattened by another shihakusho-clad person, this one female, who also gave a muffled oath of discomfort.

"M-Matsuri, get _off..._," Fujimaru gasped as his sister struggled to her hands and knees crossways over his stomach. "Working...on it..." she responded, and got to her feet just as another figure, this one in a ragged brown tentoken, dove out of the dimensional tear head first, tucked into a roll, and reversed his position to face the Senkaimon as he ended his somersault in a crouch, hand on his blade.

Sui-Feng saw his hood come off, exposing deep indigo hair, a thick white streak over his left eye, a scarred face, and noticed the quick turn of his head, taking in the corners of the room in a series of quick glances. His dark crimson eyes seemed to see everything at once, skipping here and there, as if ascertaining the harmlessness of the room's shadows.

All of this had happened within the approximate space of ten seconds, and the room was in a near uproar. Only a few Captains were not shouting questions at each other, at their Lieutenants, at the Captain-Commander, at the intruders and the majority of the Lieutenants were blankly looking at the Senkaimon or their Captains, wondering what to do. Sui-Feng herself was on the verge of ordering her men out of the darkest corners of the room and arrest the Gatecrashers when the sound of a thousand screaming trains echoed out of the portal.

All went silent as heads turned to the gate, and all eyes widened to see the massive, dark shape of the Cleaner itself pass by the opening, searchlight flashing as it turned a nearby corner and disappeared into the depths of the Dangai Precipice Realm.

A movement from the small group near the Senkai Gate drew their attention, as the figure in the cloak rose to his feet, and proceeded to float up to the entrance of the Dangai. He reached up, removing the mask covering the lower half of his face, stuck his head into the opening...

And yelled.

"_MISSED!" _

A howl echoed from the shadowy depths, as if the Cleaner was returning the slight. The cloaked man turned and gave a lazy wave while the gate closed. "Yeah, fuck you, too..."

Stunned silence and shocked faces greeted him as he slowly floated down to the floor. Booted feet made contact, and his eyes scanned the room again, seemingly taking in the assembled leadership of the Soul Society for the first time.

The Captains stared.

The Lieutenants stared.

The Kudo twins stared.

He looked around at them all, a flat, yet annoyed look on his face. "What the hell are all of you looking at?"

Captain-Commander Yamamoto, the only one to keep his composure during this whole riot, cleared his throat. The harsh noise, like gravel rushing down an iron slide, caused the assembled mass of individuals to straighten back into attention. Fujimaru and Matsuri jumped to their feet, and bowed sharply.

"Matsuri and–"

–Fujimaru Kudo!"

"_Reporting for duty, Captain-Commander, sir!" _They finished simultaneously in that obnoxious way all sets of twins seemed to have.

Sui-Feng scoffed under her breath.

_'Weirdos...'_

Suzumebachi sniggered.

"At ease, both of you. Thank you for coming on such short notice, and welcome home." The Captain-Commander's voice had warmed slightly as he spoke to the young pair, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "During this time of crisis, it is good to know that our friends in the Living Realm remember us. Are you prepared to perform your sacred duty as Soul Reapers?"

"_Yes, sir!"_

"Very well, then. I believe you remember Seventh Division Captain Komamura?"

All eyes turned to the massive man-wolf as he stepped forward, a not unkind look on his muzzle as he faced the twins, who were having a difficult time of it keeping their own smiles from appearing.

"He is currently managing both his own and the Third Squad, where you both will be placed in order to better facilitate..."

While she studiously paid half an iota of attention, Sui-Feng's foot tapped against the ground impatiently. Could they please get this idiotic display of sentimentality _over _with, already? She had things to do, better things, like...her paperwork.

_'You know, Captain-Commander...the paperwork that piles up when I am at these meetings?'_

Suzumebachi gave a comforting little hum, hoping to quell her mistress' infamously short temper from overflowing. That would be the _last _thing they needed, right now.

The Second Division Captain's notice was attracted by Yamamoto's next words.

"Tatter de Malion. Step forward."

At the mention of the name, the entire room tensed. Komamura had taken both twins back to his station, where Lieutenant Enjeru Masamune, successor to the deceased Tetsuzaemon Iba, had been quietly greeting them. They hushed however, and their heads turned to join those of everyone else as the heretofore silent man in the raggedy tentoken sauntered up the empty space between the two lines of Division heads, barely giving any of them a glance...

Until he passed in front of Toshiro Hitsugaya. He stopped there. Cocking his head to the left, he then tilted it to stare at the small, white-haired Captain, and a thoughtful expression crossed his face.

Hitsugaya furrowed his brow. "Can I help you with something?" He testily asked.

Considering that Sui-Feng thought the boy one of her few friends, Sui-Feng glared a hole in Tatter de Malion's back. She could tell that the youngest Captain was anticipating a crack about his height.

Judging from the rogue's earlier comments, she considered his suspicions justified.

Instead, the lost agent pointed at the sword hilt peeking from behind Toshiro's shoulder, and said a single word.

"Hyorinmaru."

And, locking his eyes onto the hilt, gave a short bow.

He then continued down the line as if this odd behavior was completely normal, exchanging slight nods with Shunsui Kyoraku as he walked, until he stood in front of the Captain-Commander, and, consequently, Sui-Feng, as well.

"Rogue Shinigami Tatter de Malion, reporting for duty, sir."

Yamamoto nodded once to him, and let out a deep breath. "Tatter de Malion," he began. "It has been quite some time since we saw you last, hasn't it?" De Malion nodded his agreement.

"Yeah, well, you know what they say. Home again, home again, hippety-hop."

"And where have you come from?"

The man smirked a bit. "From going to and fro in the Earth, and from walking up and down in it."

Yamamoto seemed amused by this answer, for his mustache twitched, as if a corner of his mouth lifted for a moment. "Last reports had you in Hueco Mundo. Did you see anything interesting there?"

To the side, Sui-Feng found herself in a certain amount of astonishment at the conversational tone this meeting was having. It was almost as if the others in the room didn't exist, and the Captain-Commander was talking to an old friend about the weather!

Shaking off her irritation, she used this time to garner a good look at the newcomer.

He was tall, six feet if he was an inch, which meant he towered over her. There was little of his body that she could see, with it being hidden under his cloak, but she could see that he was thin, with the pinched look of someone not used to having meals on a regular basis.

Luckily, he was a little to the side, which afforded her a view of his face. It was rather young for his age. He had a strong jaw and high cheekbones, giving him an angular look and further enforcing her opinion of his body structure. The nose was arched and slightly crooked, as if it had been broken more than once, and he carried himself a little lazily, shoulders slightly back, all his weight upon his left leg.

In the middle of the talk with Yamamoto, he glanced at her with a vaguely uninterested gaze, allowing her to see his scar in detail.

And what a scar it was.

The white streak in his short indigo hair began a few inches back from the hairline above his left eye, near the middle of his skull, and marking the path the scar took to his face. It was a deep scar, finger-thick, its darkness telling of exposed bone and near-irreparable damage done, which was betrayed by the muted movement on the left side of his face and the slightly unsynchronized, slow blinking of that eye. It followed the side of his nose until it reached level with his eye socket, then followed the natural hollow in the bone, finally creating a straight slash down upon reaching the far side of his eye and ending at the corner of his jaw. It was not a wound that could have been received in a fight, she realized. It was a torture mark, inflicted for the strictly for the purpose of causing pain and suffering.

_'To ruin an otherwise handsome face...'_

She frowned at the stray thought and dismissed it. Obviously, Suzumebachi was projecting her constantly amorous and infantile impressions of almost anything male and on two legs into her own mind.

_**'No, I'm not!'**_

_'Be quiet, Su'.'_

An age-stainedvoice calling her name caused her mind to snap to the present as the Captain-Commander turned to her.

"Tatter de Malion, I would like you to meet your new Captain. This is Second Division leader and Commander-in-Chief of the Onmitsukido, Sui-Feng. You will be stationed under her until such time as she has chosen a more _permanent_ subordinate to be her Lieutenant." He turned to her, and raised a steel-grey brow. "I do not expect any problems from this association," he added in an undertone. "From _either_ of you. Am I clear?"

A brisk nod was Sui-Feng's answer, with a crisp "Yes, sir!" underlining it.

Her new aide-de-camp's was a shrug of the shoulders, accompanied by a "Sure, sure...".

The old man's eyes shot to the rogue's face for a fraction of a second as he turned back to the assemblage of Captains, Lieutenants, and home comers. "That is the conclusion of this meeting. Dismissed!"

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The short, ten-minute walk back to the home of the Second Division was uneventful. De Malion had stood in front of her, staring with that same insolent and apathetic look in his blood-red eyes, as the rest of the group had filed out.

Sui-Feng had locked gazes with him, refusing to concede an inch.

Soon, they were alone in the assembly hall, and then, when she'd had enough, Sui-Feng cocked a brow. "Do you want to stand here all night staring?"

He shrugged. "Not like I haven't done it before."

Her mouth tightened a bit. "Well, I don't plan on making it a habit." And with that, she spun on a heel, and stalked out the door, arms in her sleeves, feeling him begin to follow.

They had not exchanged words the entire time they were walking. Not that Sui-Feng was complaining, mind. There was a lot to think about, what with how she was going to re-distribute her workload to fit this guy's strengths and get the most efficient use out of him, and breaking him of the disrespectful attitude he had. It didn't matter that he was close to Kyoraku in age, and she was a mere 180 years old.

She was a Captain, dammit.

And besides...

Talking would have ruined the enjoyment she was getting from forcing him and his long legs to slow down to her own, admittedly small strides.

Was it petty?

Yes...

But she didn't care.

_'Take _that_, you insolent bastard...'_

They reached the gates of the Second Squad Headquarters. She stopped, and sighed. Home, sweet home.

She ignored both the tall, silent figure and the bead of sweat dribbling down her neck, and, after silently cursing the unseasonably hot April weather, motioned to a small, cottage-like house on her left. "That," she said stiffly, a note of disapproval on her voice, "is _your_ quarters."

Silence ensued.

Sui-Feng looked over her shoulder at Tatter de Malion. He was staring at the building as if it was the most uninteresting thing he had ever laid eye upon.

He finally nodded.

"...s'nice..."

She finally lowered her hand, rolling her eyes at his insipid comment. She pointed with her other hand across the short, street like path that led through the Division and in front of his "house". Another building was there, slightly larger than his.

"That is mine. As you can see, we are near each other in case of an emergency."

Another short silence.

"...alright..."

Sui-Feng twitched a bit. Not half an hour ago, this man wouldn't shut up talking to the Captain-Commander, and now he barely talks?

_**'I don't mind that...strong and silent...'**_ Came the oddly-dreamy voice of Suzumebachi.

'_Shut. Up. Now. Su'. This is _not_ the time!'_

The sound of a raspberry echoed in her mind.

She sighed in exasperation. "Come on, then. We have some things to do; let's get it over with..."

A few minutes later, they had been comfortably installed within the Main Building of Division 2. Well, Sui-Feng was comfortably installed, her bottom firmly nestled within the cushion of the over-stuffed leather armchair behind her heavy oak desk.

She always felt most comfortable here, in this chair and behind this desk.

They had belonged to Lady Yoruichi, who had gotten them from a Rukongai Black Market bust. The owner (doubtless some minor nobleman who had ordered but never received them) was never found, and Lady Yoruichi, whose eyes had gleamed with childlike desire at first sight, procured them on the spot. However, she had been forced to leave them behind shortly afterward when Kisuke Urahara and company had been forced out of Seireitei.

Upon her recent resurfacing, the woman who was Sui-Feng's object of worship and admiration made them a gift, and had also given her the blessing of the former Captain of the Second Division and Commander-in-Chief of the Onmitsukido.

Sui-Feng knew which she treasured more.

But she loved the chair and desk, too.

However, her (rather considerable) delectation at being so pleasingly seated in so pleasurable a chair of comfort was (rather considerably) diminished, due to the presence of her new Lieutenant, and the rather taciturn answers he was giving in response to her rapid-fire questions.

"Height?"

"Six feet, even."

"Weight?"

"One-hundred fifty."

"Blood type?"

"O positive."

"Dominant hand?"

"Neither."

The scratching of the fountain pen she was writing all of this upon parchment with stopped. Sui-Feng looked up, a frown of confusion on her face. She glared pointedly at the hilt of the long blade at his right side, where his also-long fingers were beating a small, quick tattoo upon the leather wrapping.

He noticed her gaze. "I'm ambidextrous. Born that way."

"You don't favor either at all?"

He paused a bit. "Well, I do prefer fighting with my right hand. I write with my left."

Sui-Feng cocked a brow. "Right-handed fighter? Why keep your blade on the right side, then?"

Tatter de Malion shrugged.

She sighed, taking advantage of the small break to observe him more closely. His tentoken had fallen back from his shoulders a bit, allowing her to see his patched and ragged shihakusho. He seemed to prefer the sleeveless version. A sensible choice, as this allowed for greater freedom of movement for his arms while fighting, and it also let her see the body present there. There were slash marks and other scars covering tanned skin, and under that skin was lean, corded muscle, the kind that came not from exercise, but from constant usage.

_**'Mmm-mmmmmm...'**_

Sui-Feng made a pointed show of ignoring her antipasto spirit, and resumed her questioning.

"Flash step endurance?"

"Two-hundred twenty-five steps."

She gave a nod of grudging respect. Shunpo mastery was reached at 250 steps in a row, and the current record-holder was still Yoruichi Shihoin at 307.

"Zanpakuto name?"

"Furui Hone."

"Bankai?"

"Yes."

Another nod of respect.

"Battle skills?"

He shifted. "What do you mean?"

She sighed and put an annoyed forehead upon the palm of her hand. "How do you fight? Do you go one-on-one, do you fight groups alone, do you prefer assassinations, do you use kido...?"

He blinked. "Oh." Another pause. "Well...I use whatever I need at the time...Kido fighting, dueling, assassinations, open warfare, guerrilla warfare, shock tactics, long-term tactics, traps, ambushes, traps _and_ ambushes..."

Sui-Feng's eyes got progressively wider as his list went on, and, finally, she held up a hand. "Alright, I get it, I get it. You're experienced." She laced her fingers and rested her chin.

"Now," was her careful beginning. "We here at Division Two pride ourselves on being not seen or sensed. In any way, shape or form." A palm was placed flat upon the desk. A feeling of enjoyment passed through both her and her Zanpakuto at the clean, polished finish. Allowing it to center her, the diminutive woman leaned back in her chair a bit.

"Can you tell me," Sui-Feng slowly asked, "how many people are in this room?"

"Seen or unseen?" Was the quick response.

A black brow raised in interest. Most recruits just spit out the number, not bothering to differentiate, and in a business where the Devil was in the details, that was a major faux pas.

"Both."

"Eight," he responded, almost before she was done talking.

"Very good. Now...where are they in this room?"

"One standing in front of the desk, one in the chair behind the desk, one in the space beneath the floor, one in the ceiling space, and four in each corner of the room," he said, indicating each spot as he spoke, and ending with the shadowed portions of the room where the ceiling and walls met.

Sui-Feng nodded. "Excellent. Now–"

"Only one of them is female."

"...What?"

"They're all male. Except one." And he pointed to the southwestern corner. "Her."

The Captain of Division Two stiffened in anger. "How did you know that?!"

"Smell."

"_What?!" _A pair of black eyes burned holes into that end of the chamber, and Sui-Feng seemed to quiver in rage. "_Are you wearing perfume on your shift?!" _

"No. She just started her period."

Sui-Feng stopped, half-risen out of her chair. "...What?"

An indignant shriek came from the shadows. "No, I didn't!"

Tatter de Malion turned toward the voice behind him. "Yes, you did. Check if you don't believe me."

A pregnant moment followed. Then...

"Um...Captain..."

Sui-Feng collapsed back in her chair, covering her eyes. "Dismissed, Midori."

A black shadow detached itself from the wall and slunk through the door, cursing.

"I will admit..." The Captain muttered, dragging her palm down her face in tired annoyance. "That was...impressive."

The comment was accepted with a short nod.

Putting the matter behind her in an effort to salvage the orientation, she folded her hands and placed them on her desk, and promptly launched into a very rote speech about how welcome he was and how glad she was he had been able to join...

_**'Blah blahblah blahblah...'**_

And for once, she was in complete accordance with her spirit.

Her attention was allowed to wander as she went through the speech that she knew by heart. It hopped from the lamp in the corner (a little something from Shunsui Kyoraku as a gift for getting Captaincy. "Office-warming gift", he'd said) to the picture of some vaguely Chinese-like watercolor that Omaeda had bought for her in order to suck up, and lastly to...

The fat fly buzzing its way toward her new Lieutenant.

She could tell by the way his head twitched ever-so-slightly that he'd noticed it as well.

And now the fun would begin.

It was a bit of an unofficial tradition. Every so often, when she was talking to her new recruits, a fly would get in, and then, if the opportunity presented itself, the recruit would snatch the fly out of the air and present it to her, beaming as if they were the "most capable and quickest and most able-bodied martial artist in the world".

It was annoying as hell, frankly,

Her eyes followed it with vague interest. It floated closer and closer to the man, buzz-buzz-buzzing to its fate in his hand. She saw him tense out of the corner of her eye as it flew close to his face.

She prepared to deliver a scathing retort to his prideful capture as his eyes tracked the fly, and she watched as...

His head shot forward and his teeth snapped closed.

Sui-Feng's words died in her throat as his jaws ground once and he swallowed.

A thick, heavy silence followed as all six observers gazed in shock.

She blinked at him. "You...did you...just...?"

He spat out a leg. "Did I just what?"

Sitting back hard in her chair, she pointed a finger at him. "You just ate a fly."

De Malion nodded. "Yes, I did."

"You just ate. A. Fly."

This nod was a slow one, the type one would give a particularly stupid child. "Yes. I did."

Sui-Feng put her head in her hands. _'It is too late for this bullshit.' _Without looking up, she managed to grate out, "_Why_ did you eat the fly?"

"I was hungry."

Dear God above, he was either demented or stupid. Both were a strong possibility.

"So, you ate a fly because you were..._hungry..."_

"Well, it didn't have to be a fly. A fly just happened to be at hand."

At hand? He made a _habit _of this?

"Besides, insects are a quick and easy source of protein."

That was it.

"Leave. Just leave. Report here early in the morning."

He started to say something, then seemed to change his mind. Turning on his heel, he sauntered toward the door and out into the Spring night.

Sui-Feng stared after him for a moment, then at her desk, and then at the ceiling. She had been warned. Shunsui Kyoraku had tried, and she appreciated the heads up, but she had no idea.

The Captain of Second Division and Commander-in-Chief of the Onmitsukido, arguably the second-most politically powerful person in Seireitei found herself alone in her office, shadows lengthening in the setting sun, now almost completely below the horizon.

It had been one of the longest days of her life.

She found herself wondering how the blazing hell she had gotten herself into this mess.

Sui-Feng then looked at her desk, where there was a mound of unfinished paper work to sign. She had forgotten to give him his share of it to take care of tonight.

And that was when she felt the last of her soul chain rust away in a mixture of rage, despair, and sheer annoyance.

_'Better get on this...'_

She picked up her pen, and-

Sensed a new presence at her door. A gentle reiatsu, one with a sense of patient world-weariness, as if the owner was used to being a buffer between the innocent and the evils infesting the different realms.

Sui-Feng sighed.

"Come in, Captain Unohana."

The stately woman quietly entered, a gentle look on her face as she closed the office door.

"May I sit down?"

Sui-Feng motioned to the chair across from her desk. "How can I help you?" She asked once her elder had made herself comfortable.

"It is about your conduct regarding one of our cadets this afternoon, Sui-Feng."

As Retsu Unohana prepared to mother-hen, the Captain of Division 2 felt another migraine coming on...


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: Aaaand another new chapter of Mending! Not much to say here, just that I do not own Bleach, Pago's universe, or any original characters/events besides Tatter de Malion. Also of note is the fact that Taming Destruction is on official indefinite hiatus until Mending is done.**_

_**That, and certain parties need to get with the program. **_

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If there was one thing, just one thing, that Sui-Feng was good at besides her job, it was angry movement. She could convey an aura of rage from a small stiffening of her shoulders, disappointment in a slight tightening of her fists, irritation from a mouth in a tight line, complete and total hatred from a narrowing of her eyes.

And, from her stiff gait and the crumpled state of the small notepad in her fist as she made her way to the First Division, her dander was up, all right.

It had been three weeks since Tatter de Malion had come into position as her substitute Lieutenant. Three weeks of annoyance, of sarcastic comments, of plain and sheer _irritation_...

And, Gods-be-damned, she had had _enough._

Sui-Feng considered herself a fairly patient woman, and she was, in some regards. She had the peculiar knack that most people lacked of remaining calm in tense situations, like a battle. When most people were running around like complete idiots, frantically searching for someone to take their hands and lead them around, she was one of the few who could grab them by the back of their necks and make them get back in formation to fight.

This meant, however, that in a normal situation requiring actual people skills...

Well...

Perhaps, dear reader, we should look at the first two days of Tatter de Malion's tenure in office.

The first day was nothing spectacular, aside from Sui-Feng picking up on certain...peculiarities from her temporary subordinate. The most obvious example was apparent when she had arrived at the office by her usual time, which was 5:45 AM on the dot. Usually, she was the first there, even before Omaeda's demise, and the pattern had not changed a jot since his death. But, the second she opened the door...

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_"Good morning, Captain."_

_She nearly spit her sip of morning tea all over the floor at the unexpected greeting. Her wide eyes shot up from the headlines of the Seireitei Bulletin's morning edition _('Mysterious Black Cat Evades Kuchiki Guards–AGAIN!')_ to gaze in surprise at the tall figure standing at ease beside the smaller desk set diagonally from her own._

_She raised her mug in a feeble return of his salutation. "Uh...good...good morning, Lieutenant."_

_Tatter de Malion's eyes, looking above a small pair of half-moon reading spectacles at the end of his slightly-crooked nose, held hers in an easy boredom, and he just stood there, as if waiting for something. _

_Feeling strangely self-conscious for some reason, Sui-Feng walked across the floor to her own desk. Setting her mug next to the large tea percolator on the desk corner nearest her chair, she remained standing as she rattled out her paper, peering at him through the corner of her eye._

_He stood stock-still._

_Sui-Feng allowed herself to lean her hip against her desk a bit._

_Tatter de Malion remained there, staring at her as if she were about to do a back-flip._

_She sat down._

_He did not._

**'Bee...'**

'Yes?'

**'I think he's waiting for your permission to sit. He's probably used to a different mode of etiquette than we are...'**

_Well, that would make sense. Sui-Feng lowered her paper a bit, allowing her eyes to peep over the top edge._

_Sable met crimson, and she felt herself flush a bit._

_"At ease, Lieutenant."_

_"Very good, Captain." And at that, he had sat in his chair and turned to a half-finished pile of paperwork._

_A silence then fell, broken only by the small sounds of a scratching fountain pen and the quiet, unintentional slurp of tea being sipped. _

_"Lieutenant."_

_The scratching of the pen remained unbroken as he turned his head slightly to her, eyes still on the paper. "Yes, Captain?"_

_She put her paper down and wrapped both hands around her mug. It was one from the Human Realm, with a large honeybee on the side next to a speech bubble that said _"Have A Bumble-B-E-E-Utiful Day!". _Another gift from Lady Yoruichi. Needless to say, her favorite mug._

_"What time did you get here?"_

_"I arrived at the office at four-o'clock this morning, Captain."_

_Sui-Feng blinked in surprise. "Why so early? We don't officially open until six."_

_Tatter de Malion flipped a page up to stare at it through his spectacles. "Indeed, Captain, but, if I remember correctly, you said to be here 'early'. You failed to specify what early would be, so I drew my own conclusions." Having satisfied his curiosity about whatever he was reading, he placed the form back upon the desk and signed it, then put it into the rather large pile residing in the 'Complete' box on his desk._

_Captain Feng looked at the 'Incomplete' stack._

_It was impressively low._

_She peered at the clock on the wall._

_5:51 AM._

_Marechiyo had gotten his work done, but he'd never completed that much work in half a day, let alone less than two hours, what with his snack breaks or bathroom visits._

_She eyed the pile of papers in her own 'Incomplete' stack. Officially, she didn't have to begin her paperwork until six, when business would start, so she always took her extra fifteen-or-so minutes to read, drink her tea, and, as Lady Yoruichi had put it recently, "get her mojo flowing."_

_Whatever "mojo" was._

_Might as well take this time to get to know the stranger in her Lieutenant's desk. What harm could it do, since he was a temporary fill-in?_

_Besides, she knew next to nothing about him, anyway, and she didn't like that. _

_"So...De Malion..."_

_His head turned toward her, eyes still on the paper. "Yes, Captain?"_

_A silence followed, during which Sui-Feng realized she had no real idea or clue on how to make small talk._

_Interrogate? Yes, until the day was done, and her prisoner was blue in the face, but...converse?_

_Her mouth opened. _

_Closed._

_Opened again._

_Tatter de Malion's pen stopped scratching as he raised his head to pin her with his bored stare again._

_"Yes, Captain." It was more a statement than question, now, as if he were telling her to spit it out already so he could get back to work._

_She grabbed at the first thing that came to her mind. _

_"Nice weather, isn't it?" she blurted._

_In the back of her mind, she heard Suzumebachi groan._

_De Malion blinked at her, then slowly nodded. "Yes, I suppose it is." _

_He then bent back over his current form._

_Scritch-scratch went his signature._

_And the page hit the 'Complete' box._

'Goddammit,' _Sui-Feng mumbled in her mind. Of all the subjects to talk to her new subordinate about, and she chose _weather_?! Oh, like clouds interest a being that was at least a thousand...!_

_"De Malion."_

_The scratching stopped. "Yes. Captain." There was a definite note of irritation present there, now._

_"Exactly how old are you? I failed to ask that last night."_

_A short pause._

_"One thousand, two hundred and fourteen years old, Captain."_

_The pen was picked back up, and it resumed its noise of signing._

_One more stab at it, she made._

_"I wasn't aware you used glasses."_

_A sigh._

_"For reading, Captain."_

_And the silence fell again, interrupted only by a small chime as the clock announced the turn of the hour._

_Sui-Feng heaved a sigh of relief._

_Now, to try and salvage this day, already..._

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The rest of that day had gone without a relative hitch. Sui-Feng had managed to not make herself feel like a complete nincompoop, and Tatter de Malion hadn't displayed anything else besides a very old-school mode of etiquette regarding their positions. There had been no more attempts at small talk made, he had disappeared for the hour-long lunch break (coming in on time, something else Omaeda had never done) and, when the day had finished at 7 PM, he had stood at ease beside his desk as she exited first, following her and locking the door behind him, "yes-ma'am"-ing when she told him he didn't have to show up so early in the morning.

They had parted ways (after she told him he was dismissed), and gone back to their respective quarters.

Then, day two had rolled around.

That was when the fit started to hit the shan.

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_"Good morning, Captain."_

_This time, Sui-Feng _did _spit her mouthful of tea, but, thankfully, it landed in her mug, where it proceeded to think dark, tea-ish thoughts. She shot a glance at the wall clock._

_5:45 A.M._

_"What are you doing here?!" She demanded, a sense of embarrassment flooding her from spewing her tea in surprise._

_"Working, Captain." Tatter de Malion made a small gesture with his head toward his desk, where, once again, two stacks of forms, one noticeably shorter than the other, were present._

_Working. Of course. _

_She stalked to her desk, making a point of ignoring him in favor of slapping her newspaper _('Breaking News: SWA Photographs for Yearly Calendar Leaked! More on A3!') _upon the surface, and then turning toward the man. "I thought," grated the small woman, "that I ordered you not to show up before five-thirty."_

_His eyes blink-blinked, the left slower than the right, as Tatter de Malion considered her words. "Actually," said he, raising a finger in the air, "you said that it wasn't _necessary _for me to show up before that time. Once again, not an order."_

_Sui-Feng seethed as she pinned the strange man with her glare and sat down. She couldn't argue with his words, but, dammit, why couldn't he just–!_

**'Bee...please calm down...'**

'Why the hell should I?!'

**'Because he's the only Lieutenant we could get?'**

The ninja considered this.

**'It's in our best interests to put up with him. At least until what happened with Yumichika settles down...'**

'...fine...'

**'Besides...'**

'What?'

**'He's cute!'**

_Sui-Feng decided not to dignify this with a response. She eyed the still-standing figure beside the desk caddy-wonkered from her own. _

_"You may sit, Lieutenant."_

_He nodded. "Very good, Captain."_

_The Captain watched him sit, promptly pick up his pen and begin to work again. She decided to once again observe him under the guise of reading her newsletter._

Flip_ went the paper as he picked it up and held it in front of his reading glasses, scanning for any inconsistencies._

_It went _flap_ as he set it back down upon the desk, and then either his pen would _scritch-scratch_ a spidery name upon the line, or it would _crunch_ as he balled it up and tossed it in the wastepaper basket. All in very quick succession, all very orderly, all very efficient._

_She dared a glance at the clock. _

_5:55 AM._

_Perfect. Just enough time to try and initiate the small talking, but not enough to make her out to be an idiot._

_Sui-Feng was rather proud of herself regarding the progress she had made in the last 24 hours in this particular field. She had stayed up for three hours longer than usual (forgoing her usual strict bedtime of 9:15 PM) in meditation, concentrating upon the conversations that Lady Yoruichi had made with her._

_Sui-Feng had come to two revelations: 1) The vast majority were rather pathetically one-sided, and 2) Yoruichi Shihoin was a veritable chatterbox once she got started. The first, however , was what had immediately concerned her. _

_The largest part of their conversation was centered around Lady Yoruichi talking about anything ranging from Division business to the color yukata she was going to wear to the Tanabata festival. The main portion of Sui-Feng's responses were limited to her nodding dazedly as she looked adoringly at the woman who was as good as her sister._

_She felt rather disgusted with herself. _

_So, with this dearth of personal experience with actually engaging in talking, Sui-Feng had paid special attention to Yoruichi Shihoin's end of the chats, and had found a treasure-trove of unintentional (or were they? One never could tell with Yoruichi...) pointers on how to start and carry on engaging on a personal level with another. _

_Pointers which she prepared to use now._

_Sui-Feng chose a topic at random (not the weather; it was actually about the Summer Fair in the Rukon District) and, still "reading" her paper, opened her mouth. "So, de–"_

_"I must say, Captain, I am impressed with your cognitive abilities."_

_The words she had so carefully chosen stuck in her throat as she lifted her eyes to stare in surprise at Tatter de Malion, who was himself looking at her out of the corner of his eye. "Uh...thank...thank you...?"_

_He nodded. "You're quite welcome." The crimson eye in the scarred socket went back to the page as he scribbled his name. _

_Sui-Feng blinked in confusion. Not only had he managed to interrupt her, he had completely thrown off her concentration with the nonsense of his statement. _

_What was it she was going to say...?_

_"After all..." _

_Her eyes shot back to him as he began talking again. _

_"It isn't every Captain who can observe their Lieutenant surreptitiously while reading their newspaper upside-down."_

'What the hell is he...' _Sui-Feng looked at her paper. Surely, she hadn't made such a rookie mistake as forgetting how her paper was positioned?_

_The completely unfamiliar characters in front of her skeptical gaze confirmed that she had, in fact, made such a mistake._

_Flushing in anger and no small amount of embarrassment, Sui-Feng hurriedly flipped the paper right-side-up, and then proceeded to fold it in half and throw it on her desk in irritation._

_Stupid paper, anyway._

_A slight huffing sound hit her ears then, coming from the workspace across her own. She looked at him, and...was he laughing?_

_A slight crinkling of his scarred left cheek, the only side of his face visible to her, confirmed her suspicions._

_Her lieutenant was _laughing_ at her!_

_"What's so damn funny, Lieutenant?!" Sui-Feng's voice had no shortage of malice dripping from it, as her eyes snapped fire and her jaw began to clench._

_Tatter de Malion turned his face toward that of his Captain, exposing the wide half-smile his right side sported. No shortage of sardonic amusement was in his eyes as his chin rested itself in the palm of his right hand._

_"You, of course, Captain."_

_**'Now, Bee...'**_

_'_Shut up, Suzumebachi!'

_"And why, pray tell, are you laughing?" Forced calm was evident in the words, as Sui-Feng attempted to rein in her temper._

_"You're funny."_

_Knuckles cracked as a petite fist was tightened. _

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The day had devolved from there. Her jaw had ended up cramping at lunchtime from clenching so hard, and now it seemed as if he made a point to look at her sideways and snicker, once a day at the least.

He had also begun making smartass little comments as well. She had once scalded her tongue on her still-hot tea. At her muffled "mmph" of discomfort, he had glanced at her and said, "Careful, Captain; it's hot."

Those had become a mainstay in her limited interaction with him, as well...not to mention he had eaten _another _fly.

Disgusting.

Sui-Feng came to the gate of Division One, and a grim smile spread across her face, anticipation at her freedom from the thorn in her side sending a thrill up her spine.

Tatter de Malion would soon follow in the footsteps of Yumichika Ayesegawa and her former Fourth Seat...

The memory of that grey-haired banshee made her cringe as she walked through the long hallway leading to the Captain-Commander's office.

Sui-Feng knocked thrice, and walked in once a voice hoarse with age bid her "Enter." Nodding to Chojiro Sasakibe, who stood at attention beside the door, she did likewise until the old man behind the desk motioned to the chair across from him.

"Now," said Yamamoto. "What's this about your Substitute Lieutenant being 'unsatisfactory'?"

Sui-Feng allowed a sense of satisfaction to fill her as she opened the notepad containing the misdeeds of Tatter de Malion.

"To start with, sir..."

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Tatter de Malion sighed in irritation as he walked into the HQ of Tenth Squad. The locusts in the background buzzed loudly in the afternoon heat, and the sun beat down unmercifully.

It was three o'clock in the day, and a Wednesday, to boot. For the last three weeks since he started this job, he had been able to avoid this most annoying of tasks, and his Captain had been fairly acquiescent to him doing so, what with the enormous backlog of paperwork that needed to be caught up on.

However, thanks to his early mornings, as well as ignoring training the new recruits (who had been foisted off on the Third Seat), and the work of someone with...rather _pretty_ handwriting (his predecessor's, apparently), things in the office had been less frantic.

In the paperwork regard, at least.

Tatter de Malion smiled to himself. He had been rather merciless to his pretty little Captain.

Drop a snark here.

Drop a snicker there.

Watch her build up a head of steam and struggle to get it under control.

Fun, fun, fun.

Of course, she would have her revenge, and he knew that.

There was, after all, a reason she had been following him around, both on and off the clock, taking notes on his doings.

Sui-Feng had thought he hadn't noticed.

Tatter de Malion noticed _everything, _thanks to years of paranoia living in the field.

It also helped that her Zanpakuto spirit...Suzumebachi, was it?...had a massive crush on his own Zanpakuto and nattered on and on to Furui Hone every chance she got, whether or not Furui Hone responded.

He didn't, mostly.

But that didn't stop the hornet at all, even if she didn't know exactly what Furui Hone was.

Young love. How cute.

Suddenly, his Zanpakuto rattled in its sheathe.

"Ok, ok, I'll stop making fun of you," Tatter mumbled, patting the hilt as he did.

Another **shake**.

"I know, I know, I don't want to do this either."

**Rattlerattlerattle**.

"She _was _oddly insistent, wasn't she?"

**Shakeshakerattlerattleshake**.

The Shinigami smiled a bit. "Yeah, they _are_ cute at that age, huh?"

**Rattle**.

"Yes, it _has _been a while since we've seen Hyorinmaru."

**Quiverrattleshake.**

"No, Old Father, his wielder won't be here. Lieutenants only, remember?"

A growl in his mindscape let him know of the spirit's displeasure.

De Malion frowned at that. "Well, it's not like I can help that."

Silence ensued as they walked around for a bit, trying to find the room they were supposed to be in.

**Rattlerattleshake**.

"Three-thirty."

**Shakeshakeshiver.**

"No, we're in the right...Ah, _there _they are."

Tatter de Malion caught the white of a Lieutenant Badge on the arm of a rather tall young lady with silver hair entering a room directly in front of them.

Apparently, this week's Lieutenant's Meeting was being held there.

**Shiverrattlerattleshake.**

"I know, I know...let's get this thing done."

Walking in through the door, Tatter de Malion found himself slightly underwhelmed at the assortment of Soul Reapers assembled beyond, who fell silent at his entrance.

They were young. True, everyone was young to him, but these Lieutenants were..._young._ Not to mention the fact that they were an oddball group as well.

An eclectic gathering around a large table clashed against his eye. There was the tall one to his left, who seemed to be doing her best to curl up into herself at his gaze. A tiny little ball of pink and black was studiously ignoring him, busily coloring on what appeared to be a Division Acquisition form whilst humming happily. Two rather pretty and well-endowed women, one strawberry-blonde and the other green haired (the Arrancar woman the Captain had mentioned, he mused, noticing the mask fragment on her head) had been in conversation, and now watched him, the blonde with interest. Next to them, a young man with sunglasses on gave a short nod to him, which de Malion returned.

The Kudo Twins were there as well and waved at him enthusiastically.

He did _not _return their greeting, opting for another small nod.

His impromptu inspection of the other Lieutenants of the Gotei Thirteen was interrupted when a rather bookish and petite female stood in front of him and cleared her throat with a small "ahem".

"Lieutenant Tatter de Malion of the Second Division, I presume?" Violet eyes behind steel-rimmed glasses assessed him in a clinical fashion, sweeping up and down his front, taking in his rather worn shihakusho and the scars on his arms.

Tatter de Malion once again nodded.

His reticent nature did not seem to faze the young woman one bit. She raised a brow critically and archly said, "You finally saw yourself fit to join us in our weekly meeting? I'm so glad."

Tatter de Malion decided he wasn't sure if he liked this one, but lost any further chance to think on it when another woman, a slender, willowy thing with purple hair and dull green eyes handed an itinerary to him and then went and sat back down in her chair next to a man with spiky black hair and tattoos all over his face.

A look at the subjects on the schedule were enough to tell him he had done well to avoid these meetings for as long as he had.

"Alright, people! Please take your seats!" The bespectacled one had gone to the front of the room and was now shuffling some papers around, apparently reorganizing them in order of importance.

Tatter de Malion chose a seat at random, plunked his tuckus down, crossed his arms, and closed his eyes. Hopefully, this meeting would only take a short time, and he wouldn't have to put up with any obnoxious seat-mates, either.

The sound of chairs on either side of him scooting back made him look up.

To his left was Fujimaru Kudo.

To his right was Matsuri Kudo.

Both had identical raccoon grins directed at him.

He suppressed a groan as the woman in glasses began to talk.

_'This is gonna be hell...'_

Forty-five minutes later, Specs (he didn't know her name) wrapped up the business of ensuring that all Lieutenants were on the same page.

Tatter de Malion had fallen into a meditative trance. His eyes were wide open, a trick he learned from a guru whilst traveling through the mountains of India. It afforded him the illusion of paying attention, while in reality he had escaped into the reaches of his own mind.

It made the time go by faster.

"Now, to the last order of business."

The change of tone in Specs' voice brought him back from the book he had memorized (Sun-Tzu's Art of War) to the present, where she was looking at him rather expectantly.

His eyes shot around.

Everyone else was staring at him, as well.

"What the hell do you want?" he asked, feigning nonchalance.

Specs adjusted her specs and cleared her throat. "It is customary for new Lieutenants to stand and introduce themselves at the end of their first meeting, and hear the names of their fellows. Although we," and she gestured to the other occupants of the room, "do already know your name, tradition must be respected."

De Malion blinked-blinked, his usual bored expression firmly in place. Why did he have to go through with this shit? He had paperwork to get to, and then a nice, warm bed.

A rumble echoed in his head. He sighed. Furui Hone was right; just get it over with.

Standing up, he settled his weight upon one foot and hooked his thumbs in his obi. Giving a look around the room and making brief eye contact with the others, he breathed a sigh through his nose.

"My name is Tatter de Malion."

And he promptly sat down again.

Silence ensued.

A small cough announced Specs' intention to speak. Tatter beat her to the punch.

"What the hell do you want _now?_" He made no attempt to hide the impatience in his voice.

Lenses flashed, and everyone but the Division Two sub-in flinched away from the woman in glasses.

"It is also customary," she said in a quiet voice, "to tell us something about yourself."

This was met with a groan of irritation. Wasn't it enough that he had a nosy Captain butting into his privacy?

"Will you leave me alone if I do?"

"Yes."

"_Fine_." He stood. "My name," he repeated, "is Tatter de Malion."

Everyone looked at him expectantly.

"I like cheese."

And he sat down again.

Silence reigned once more.

"Very well, then," the bespectacled one said. "Now with our introductions."

The Kudo Twins stood.

"Fujimaru–"

"–and Matsuri Kudo!"

_"Acting Lieutenants of Division Three!"_

The tall girl then stood.

"Isane Kotetsu, Fourth Lieutenant!"

Then the man in the shades.

"Seventh Squad Lieutenant, Enjeru Masamune."

Specs piped up from the front of the room.

"Lieutenant Nanao Ise of the Eighth Division."

Tattoos stood.

"Shuhei Hisagi, Lieutenant and Acting Captain of Ninth."

The busty one with the strawberry-blonde hair then made a show of standing up and flipping her hair over her shoulder, taking care to emphasize her rather impressive breast size. "Lieutenant of Tenth, Rangiku Matsumoto," she said huskily, tipping him a dazzling wink/smile combo. "Remember it, handsome."

Tatter de Malion resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and was nearly bowled out of his chair by an energetic blur of pink ricocheting into his lap.

"I'm Yachiru, Kenny's Lieutenant!" It shrieked into his ear. Then it was gone, out the window.

"Nemu Kurotsuchi. Twelfth Squad." The quiet voice came from the willowy girl who had handed him the itinerary.

Finally, the green-haired Arrancar woman stood up, and de Malion blinked as he got his first good look at her.

She looked...familiar, somehow...

"Neliel Tu Odelschvank-Ushii, Lieutenant of Thirteenth Division."

As one, the assembled Lieutenants gave a sharp bow.

_"We are pleased to meet you!"_

Tatter blinked. He had not let his indifferent mask fade at all throughout this spiel, and was not about to give it up now.

"Charmed, I'm sure," he deadpanned, smirking a bit as he saw them deflate at his unenthusiastic response.

"So, are we done here? I got better things to do."

Specs, or Nanao, as he had just learned, gave him a frosty glare...but nodded once.

And with that, Tatter de Malion was gone out the door, leaving the other Lieutenants to gaze at one another in consternation.

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Meanwhile, at the HQ of Division One, Sui-Feng's meeting with the Captain-Commander was likewise wrapping up.

"–uses the latrine three times a day at 10 AM, 3 PM, and 9 PM for exactly fifteen minutes each," read the Captain-Commander from the notepad, a certain amount of concern in his tone.

Sui-Feng gave a satisfied grin and nodded once. "Yes, sir. Not a moment more or less." Obviously, the man was plotting something. Who else would keep to such a strict timetable, if not someone planning mischief?

"I...will admit that I find this...disconcerting..." the old man responded.

Sui-Feng sat back in her chair. Yes, everything was going according to plan...

"Captain, tell me...do yo have anything better to do with your time than using it to observe when a man goes to shit?"

She nearly swallowed air at the question and sat back up straight. "I beg your pardon, sir?"

Yamamoto waved her notepad at her and threw it on the desk. "Captain," he said patiently. "For the better part of the last hour, I have listened to your complaints and observations regarding Substitute Lieutenant Tatter de Malion. So far, you have regaled me with tales of sarcastic comments and personality quirks, but nothing about how he is, in any way, doing an unsatisfactory job."

Sui-Feng blinked rapidly. Confusion welled up within her ask his words began to hit home. What did he _mean_, "nothing"?! Everything was right there! She snatched the notepad off of the desk and flipped to a random page, pointing to a bullet.

"Sir, I beg to disagree. Right here, it says that he completely ruined my filing system. A sign of complete incompetence if there–"

"If I remember correctly," the Captain-Commander interrupted, "you yourself did say that your filing system needed to be replaced. I have noticed that the forms coming into the business office are in much more organized form than before he 'ruined' your old way of systemization."

Sui-Feng blinked in consternation, unable to argue with his words. Another frantic flipping of the notepad, and she came upon another point.

"He has repeatedly disrespected the office–"

Yamamoto grunted. "I do not see how coming in earlier than the Captain could be considered casting shame upon the office of Lieutenant. If anything," and at this he gave a small smirk. "It could be seen as you not taking your own duties as seriously as your Lieutenant takes his."

More blinking on her part, followed by more flipping.

"He–"

"Personality quirk."

"Repeated–"

"Part of our older traditions, with which you are not familiar."

"Constant–"

"Nothing you aren't used to."

"Folds his–"

"Private matter, none of your business."

It went on in this vein for several more bullet points until the Captain-Commander got tired of it. "Sui-Feng. I have read each and every one of your concerns, so there is no point reading them back to me. Even if I hadn't, there _still _would be no point."

Sui-Feng stammered. "B-but _sir,_ I-I–"

"Captain."

Her jaw clicked shut.

"Have you found a replacement Lieutenant?"

A shake of her head. "No, sir..."

"Have you found any potential candidates for another substitute?"

"...no, sir..."

Yamamoto nodded. "Very well, then. Request denied."

Sui-Feng gusted a sigh, standing up and turning around.

Halfway to the door, she spun around.

_"He eats flies, for the love of God!"_

Yamamoto started, looking up at her in mild surprise. A white eyebrow raised itself.

"He does..._what?"_

The Captain of the Second Division raised metaphorical hands in praise to the heavens. '_By the Court of the Jade Emperor, a _breakthrough!_'_

She folded her arms in triumph. "Yes. _Flies._ I have witness, multiple ones."

The Captain-Commander seemed taken aback. A troubled look cast itself as his expression while he folded his hands and set his elbows on the table.

Sui-Feng waited patiently, a small smile of victory on her own face.

"Well..."

She stood up straight, anticipation of his next words setting her nerves ablaze.

"That...would be another personality quirk...disturbing, yes, but ultimately harmless."

The diminutive woman deflated.

"Besides..."

The words barely registered with her shocked ears.

"I am given to understand that insects are a quick and easy source of protein."

A change came over Sui-Feng, then. She straightened back up, and a curiously blank expression came over her face. Walking to the door, she quietly reached for the handle, and the turned back to Yamamoto.

"That," she quietly said, "is _exactly_ what _he _said."

And she silently exited the room.

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The Captain and her Lieutenant met again outside of the Main Office of Second Squad.

Words were not exchanged as they gazed at each other, dull and lifeless black meeting bored crimson.

They entered the building, sat down at their respective desks, and began the rest of their work.

Silence still hung heavy in the air...until...

"So..."

Sui-Feng tensed immediately at the slightly-hoarse voice of her subordinate.

"So..._what?!"_ She gritted out through her teeth, eyes not leaving her paper.

The smirk on his face was nearly audible. "So...how was your day?"

The creak of enamel from the Captain's jaw filled the air as she fought down the rage threatening to overtake her.

_**'Breathe, Bee...breathe with me...in...out...in...'**_

The click of teeth meeting, followed by the sound of a single chew and swallow, precipitated her escape through the window before she butchered the Butcher.

_**A/N: REVIEW AND MAKE ME SOME FANART PLEEZ!**_


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